Five Nights at Freddy's: The Building No One Knew About
by Gate to Dreams
Summary: Join four young men as they embark on a journey to find out the secrets of the old Fazbear Ent. building that was abandoned and lost to time. Will they make it out? Will they find out why it was left to rot and crumble away? What happened in the past to cause these things? And will they find something truly, utterly horrifying? (R&R if you liked this. Rating will go up eventually)
1. The Beginning

It was like ominous music was playing in their ears as they stood outside the old building. It looked terrible. What with all the overgrowth and the broken road and the off green of some of the trimming of the building that housed the killing machines. A large black van was parked a little down the road with cameras and power cords. The building was past the outskirts of the city, and the city was surrounded by nothing but forest, thus the cause of overgrowth. The first male, slightly bright short purple hair, pale skin, purple nails wearing black pants and a white shirt with a black security hat. His eyes were also purple, people called him Purple Guy, but his name was Vincent Man'roe.

Beside him was a slightly shorter male with unruly blackish brown hair with wood brown eyes. His pants were baggy and tucked into black boots. A sleek black t-shirt under a slightly dark purple shirt and a black security hat as well and finger-less gloves. His name was Mike Schmidt. Vincent had a slightly bored look on his face with crossed arms and Mike was slightly unnerved at the sight of the building.

Slightly off to the side of Mike was Jeremy Fitzgerald. He had short bright blond hair with dark blue eyes. Bangs covered the entirety of his right side of his face. His shirt was long-sleeved and a light blue with sleek black pants. He wasn't even interested all that much in going into the run-down building.

Then there was Scott Cawthon. The youngest, and shortest, of the four. His hair was short and black, with streaks of dark gray. Though he wasn't old, it was odd. He had black pants like the others but his shirt was a white and light blue plaid long-sleeved shirt with a black vest over it. Unlike the other three though, he wore glasses and had mid-tone gray eyes with green rimmed glasses. He wore black leather gloves, though the material was thin. He was wary of the reason why they were there.

"Man this place is a dump." Vincent commented lazily, looking at his painted nails before looking at Mike who made an angry sound. "Vincent, you know why we're here." Vincent rolled his eyes and sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Scott was holding a tablet that could connect to any device that could be in there and working. Like the camera system.

"Yeah, yeah. But that doesn't mean this place doesn't have a creepy zombie vibe to it." Vincent muttered under his breath and Mike shot him a look that made Vincent look away from him and back at the building. Scott shifted nervously and said, "We should probably get in there before it gets any darker than what it already is." Then Jeremy added with a roll of his eyes, "Because I would not like to use the batteries unless I have to." Mike huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Alright fine. Let's just go. Scott do you have the cords?" Scott nodded his head affirmatively and Mike grinned. "Alright, let's get this over with."

 ** _To be continued..._**


	2. Inside

They walked through the building, it looked better inside than out in Vincent's opinion, but in Scott's opinion, it was slightly disgusting. It was so dark and Scott sighed quietly, turning on the flashlight and yelping in fear when a large rat ran in front of his feet. Vincent laughed and said, "Wuss, it was just a rat." Scott stuck his tongue out at the taller and huffed.

The walls were an off color with a light dusting of rust and moss and whatever the hell that yellow stuff is. The floor was also stained with stuff and Mike pulled a face at the rot on a wooden door he lightly touched. "Dude, just how long has this building been up for?" Mike asked curiously as he pulled his hand back and lowered it back to his side.

"I think it's been up since Fazbear Entertainment came about. Which I do believe was in the early 1700s." Jeremy replied with a shrug, brushing some hanging wires away casually. It made Scott thankful he was the shortest. "Man, is this dried blood or some other crap?" Scott asked, pulling a face as he stepped over a stain on the floor. Vincent stopped and turned around before walking over to Scott, kneeling down and flashing the light on it and said, "Yup, dried blood. Do you think there were murders here?"

"Ha! If there were, then this was the perfect place to commit them. I mean really, this place is in the middle of bloody nowhere!" Mike exclaimed sarcastically and Vincent glared at him over his shoulder before looking at the blood stain again. "Honestly, it looks like a footprint. Scott, did you happen to step in liquid?"

Scott glared and huffed out, "I would remember stepping in red liquid Vincent. And besides, that footprint is WAY to small and feminine to be mind." Jeremy raised an eyebrow at that and commented cheekily, "I dunno Scott, you have some small feet." Scott's face went red with rage before he stormed off through a nearby door and Mike said, "Dude, you shouldn't have said that. Now I need to go find him. Who knows what happened and the building isn't completely stable." __

 _ **To be continued...**_


	3. Alone Part 1

Scott stormed through the building in a small rage. He knew he was the youngest, but still! The whole building was changing yet he was oblivious to his surroundings. The floor wasn't greenish back but a dark, dark red and black checkered tile. The walls weren't wooden with checkered tiles anymore, but a dark rotting brown with actual rot and decay. The halls also weren't as narrow and there were off white, with a hint of yellow, stars hanging above. The ceiling was black as well.

The drawings were old as well, but mostly untouched or ripped by something. He slowed to a stop, realizing he was in a different part of the building than where the others were. "I'm alone..." He whispered to himself in slight horror. They had agreed not to wander off by themselves because the building was so old and didn't look stable.

"But everything doesn't look to be falling apart..." He said aloud as he trailed his fingers lightly across the wall as he walked. There were a few party tables that were worn with age and centuries rotten food. "It looks like whatever happened here, people were in a hurry..." He whispered. Because there were chairs strewn about and food still on plates and forks and spoons in positions where it looked like someone dropped them. Just what happened here? He asked himself.

There was a creak of old floorboards and he whirled around and asked, "W-who's there?" __

 _ **To be continued...**_


	4. Alone Part 2

Scott glared slightly into the darkness, pointing his flashlight in the direction of the noise but there was no one or anything but a broken camera and he raised an eyebrow at that. He fixed his glasses and slowly walked over, his footsteps light and quiet, afraid. He knelt down after stopping in front of it and reached out slowly with his free hand which happened to be his right and his fingers grazed the camera before he retracted them slightly.

He pondered for a moment if the camera even worked but he might as well see if it did. If anything, he could always take it back with him and fix it. It looked expensive for the time period it was made in and surprisingly it wasn't like everything else with all the dust and mold and moss. His fingers outstretched slowly and they touched the camera again. It was warm like it was recently held but he ignored that and gently grasped it and picked it up. He put the flashlight in his mouth and gently rolled the camera around, looking for anything to turn it on.

He didn't know how long he was sitting there, though in reality it was only a few minutes to ten. He felt a slight chill in his spine and figured it was really dark out by now. Though it wasn't the cold chill, it was a stalker chill. He ignored it as he stood up, still looking at the camera. He didn't notice someone approaching from behind and when he did notice, it was to late and the flashlight dropped from his mouth and his scream was stopped short when he was knocked out. His flashlight broke and the camera slipped from his fingers and he fell back against his attacker and his attacker dragged him off.

...

"Damn it Mike, we've been going in circles! How the hell did we lose Scott in this building?" Jeremy grumbled and Vincent sighed and rubbed his eyes. "This is ridiculous." He agreed in a hushed tone and Mike grumbled to himself about troublesome cousins and being offended easily. __

 _ **To be continued...**_


	5. Darkness

The lights flickered on and off in the main room. The sound of an eerie groaning could be heard and creaky floorboards echoed in the room. Shadows flickered across the floor, white eyes peering at the ceiling creepily. It sat there for a few minutes...just...sat there before gliding across the floor towards a dark colored door covered in rust like the rest of the metal.

The handle twisted slowly and a cringe worthy creak could be heard. It was squeaky from not being oiled and coupled with rust and whatever else was in there made it even worse. And then a soft 'click' sounded in the silent room. The shadow was on the door, white eyes peering down at the handle and the lights flickered once again and the door slowly opened.

The dim, flickering lights filled the room, illuminating a sleeping face on the table. The shadows stretched towards the figure eerily, slowly, silently. No noise could be heard besides the even breathing of the body on the rusted and stained metal table. The door clicked shut softly and the outline of a figure could be seen hovering over the body. Off white to light gray eyes peered down at the face of the person on the table. Glasses were up on a shelf, out of the shorter figures' reach. A withered and broken hand gently touched the pale, cold cheek of the figure on the table.

The hand was a dark pale color because of no light nor sunshine for years. Holes were littered all across the tall figure and wires hung out, green, blue, red, black. A metal skeleton could be seen underneath. The clothes it wore were torn and worn with age. They were stained and so was the skin, both with oil and other things. The long fingers trailed gently across the soft skin of the human it had taken.

Then it's palm rested gently against the cheek of the figure and the eyes of the thing glowed slightly in the darkness.

...

"Holy...fricking...crap man. Where the hell are we?" Vincent asked, shivering slightly as a cold breeze brushed past him. Jeremy was getting a headache from being there and he didn't know why. There were practically no lights, and the only lights there were, were the dim, flickering ones above. Though they practically did nothing but cast eerie, moving shadows across the room. "I...I don't know. But I have a bad feeling about this..." Mike replied quietly. __

 _ **To be continued...**_


	6. Feeling

It was strange, constantly being in the shadows. It could play games on you, make you see things that aren't there. And sometimes hides killers or monsters within its' clutches like a trap, ready to be sprung out on the poor victim. You hear things that aren't really there. The darkness is like a trap, cold. But can be a blessing, warm. To Vincent, it was overbearingly cold and he shivered and sighed. Jeremy, it was overly warm, like a thick blanket in the high of summer.

He felt wrapped in heat and he asked, pulling at his collar as he huffed slightly, "I-is it me or is it overly hot in this place?" Vincent, who was next to Mike laughed a bit bitterly and said in a slightly shaking tone of voice, feeling so very cold, "What are you talking about? It's bloody cold in here!" Mike didn't feel anything but an eerie chill in the air.

"How can you feel cold? I'm heating up over here like boiling potatoes!" Jeremy exclaimed angrily before starting to unbutton his shirt but Mike raised a hand and said, "Don't just strip in here Jere! Who knows what's in this place!" Jeremy grumbled but complied and buttoned his shirt back up. Though as he did, he didn't feel overly hot anymore. Like Mike's words chased something away that was heating him up.

Chasing something away that made him want to strip because of the heat. He shivered in slight fear at that thought alone and when he was finished, he noticed that Vincent was looking at something on the floor and he walked over and joined him, crouching down next to the piece of paper. Mike and Vincent knelt down as well and Vincent picked up what looked like a note and the paper was worn and stained red in certain parts. Ink was blotched, like whoever was writing it was in a hurry.

"What could this be?" Mike asked and Vincent shrugged as he stood up, followed by Jeremy and Mike. "I honestly don't know. The hand-writing is unfamiliar and the language looks like Old English to be honest." He replied with a small frown on his pale face. He didn't know much Old English, but he could tell that whoever was writing this, was saying their final goodbyes before the blood, yes blood as he had identified, splattered all over. But it was still readable to a high degree. Though the longer words were slightly distorted.

"Let's translate this after we find Scott and head back home for the week." Jeremy suggested to the other two. The purple haired male nodded his head in agreement, "Yeah." He gently folded the paper and put it into his breast pocket and added with a slightly narrowed look to his eyes, "Now let's go find Scotty-boy." __

 _ **To be continued...**_


	7. Waking Up

Light gray eyes opened to darkness, a musky smell wafting through the room like a disease and the person gagged slightly at the overwhelming scent and sat up. Though the person raised a hand to their head. Though, they would, if a heavy weight wasn't keeping them from rising above their waist. Whatever was around their wrists were heavy and very cold and he shivered. They tugged again and heard a clanking sound and they glared at their wrists, tugging again and the noise got louder.

"What happened? Where am I?" They asked them-self quietly and in a hushed tone. He felt slightly warm despite his body itself being cold to the touch. They felt something on their cheek and raised their shoulder and brushed their cheek to get whatever it was off and not their shoulder felt dirty and they glared into the choking darkness.

It was unnerving, being alone and in utter silence and it made their head hurt and tears sting their eyes. They were unaware of a darker shadow watching them curiously and they tugged harder but it just brought pain to them.

"Darn..." They muttered and looked down to their legs and tugged experimentally and sighed softly when their ankles were also shackled to whatever surface they were on. Soft, quiet, footsteps could be heard approaching them and they turned their head slightly. Though they couldn't see even if they had their glasses on, they could tell that it wasn't their friend approaching them.

A hand touched their cheek and they flinched away but the hand gripped their hair tightly and made them look into off white, light gray eyes that were hard and their eyes, their own light gray though it was more of a shiny light gray that would be on a car. The eyes were more whitish yellow than anything.

"W-who are you?" They asked, their voice quivering slightly and the eyes seemed to glow brighter in amusement.

Scott knew he was royally screwed this time as fingers trailed gently against his other cheek. Lightly touching, feather light. __

 _ **To be continued...**_


	8. Meeting

The eyes peered at Scott curiously, the fingers retreating into the thick darkness that seemed to be in front of him. Scott thought that if he were to die, he'd rather have food poisoning than die by whatever this shadow thing was. Scott's thighs closed tightly and he raised them as high as he could, which wasn't much but still something. His shoulders were tense and his hands were shaking slightly. Sweating a little.

"I go by many names...Salvage...Thing...Trap..." The eyes replied and Scott's eyes darted to where he assumed the door was, he didn't want to look at this thing that was talking to him, answering his question. "Springtrap is another name they gave me...though I can't remember my real name." It continued softly, quietly. In a hushed tone that made Scott look back at it again.

"A-are you...g-going to...k-kill me?" He asked, his voice shaky and low, afraid of the answer he'd receive from this monster that held him captive. The darkness was bliss at this moment as something brushed up against his hand. He didn't want to know what it was because it might have been a head for all he knew...

One of his dead friends...

Or a stranger that caused all that blood.

But it didn't feel like flesh or bone. And he knew what both felt like. It felt like cloth and it was cold, chilling. And it was slightly rounded like...he jerked his hand away when he heard a sigh. "Does that answer your question?" It asked...though it was a boy after that. "Y...yes..." He replied quietly, fearfully. Since it had those parts, he wondered if he was...no, it was better not to think about that. "W-why am I here?" He asked, quietly, voice small and vulnerable, like a child in the darkness lost in the woods. __

 _ **To be continued...**_


End file.
